


Time of Your Life Ch1-Christmas 2002

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Fiction, Mpreg, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-25
Updated: 2004-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Someone new.





	Time of Your Life Ch1-Christmas 2002

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Time of Your Life Ch1-Christmas 2002

### Time of Your Life Ch1-Christmas 2002

#### by Emerald Starburst

  


December 25, 2002  
2:32 am 

Mulder found himself in the apartment of an NYPD detective, facing said detective naked and profoundly aroused. So was the detective. 

//How did I get here?// he asked himself and thought back over the last few hours. 

Mulder and Scully were working a case in New York in conjunction with the Staten Island police. Local cemeteries had been plagued by a rash of grave desecrations, and they had been called in as experts because the local profiler believed it to be the work of Satanists. 

However, it was almost immediately apparent to Mulder that they were instead dealing with a fetishist whose MO was disturbingly close to Donnie Pfaster's. His conclusions turned out to be identical to the ones drawn by the original investigating officer, Detective Michael Logan. 

Detective Logan was not only extremely attractive but possessed a lively intelligence that complimented his own. It had been a pleasure to work with the man, and together they shouted down the other detectives and the NYPD profiler to find the fetishist before he graduated to serial killer. He was a little puzzled when he overheard the lieutenant muttering to himself about "birds of a feather" and "I should have known when I saw the tie". 

They apprehended the suspect just as he was about to claim his first 'warm body'. The next day was Christmas Eve, so the Staten Island cops decided to throw a combination Christmas Eve, farewell, and Hallelujah-we-caught-the-bastard party. The party was attended by all off-duty personnel, and was declared casual dress. 

Seeing Mike Logan in faded jeans-was he wearing underwear?-and a dark blue shirt was an eye-opener. He was tall, dark, smouldering, and utterly delectable in denim. Mulder sighed and lamented that all the good ones were straight. 

Scully had begged off early, and Mulder was getting ready to leave himself, when Logan's partner, Frankie Silvera, stopped him. 

"Mulder, could you do me a favor? Mike's had a little too much holiday cheer, and I'd take him home myself, but he lives way over in Manhattan and your hotel is just a few minutes away from his apartment and..." 

"I'll be glad to drive Mike home," he assured her. He was going to sorely miss the detective, and he was grateful to have an opportunity to talk with him a little more. 

Unfortunately, talking was a skill Logan had temporarily lost. Silvera had somewhat underestimated Mike's state of inebriation. After an extremely friendly, "Mulder, howsit going?", he'd slumped over Mulder bonelessly. A lopsided grin was his only reply to Mulder's questions. In the car, Mike suddenly found his voice, but it was only to sing. Tunelessly, and enthusiastically, he belted out all the choruses to 'Lydia, the Tattooed Lady'. 

As much as he would have liked to continue one of their esoteric discussions, Mulder found himself enjoying this side of Mike Logan. While they worked together, the man had been deadly serious and almost morbidly intense. As phenomenally sexy as that was, it was good to know Mike could be light-hearted, even if only while intoxicated. 

Mulder pulled up in front of Logan's apartment building. Mike had started to doze, and Mulder shook him awake. 

"Wha'?" he said, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy toddler. 

"You're home, Mike. Let's get you upstairs." 

"Okay." 

Mike had sobered enough by that time to mostly walk himself up to the second floor apartment. He handed over his keys meekly when Mulder asked for them. He led Mike inside intending to pour him into bed and take his leave. That was when the rules changed. 

As soon as the door shut, Mike pushed Mulder up against the door and covered him with his body. His hands were everywhere, peeling off their coats, stroking Mulder's face, back, and ass. All of it in seemingly one motion. 

"What the fuck!" Mulder exclaimed. "Mike, what are you. . .Oh, my God." Mike was smiling down at him ferally, shedding his clothes. The blue shirt hit the floor, followed by a sleeveless white t-shirt. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off the socks slowly, like a burlesque striptease. Mulder could only lick his lips when Mike unsnapped his jeans and let them fall. 

"Oh. My. God." Mike 'was' wearing underwear, and now Mulder knew why he couldn't detect a seam. They were satin. Black satin boxer shorts. They covered all but concealed nothing, the flowing fabric outlining a very impressive hard on. 

Feeling as if he'd just stepped through the looking glass, Mulder didn't protest when Mike grasped his hands and guided them to his satin-cloaked ass. 

It was like touching wet skin, and Mulder imagined it was the next best thing to having sex in a pool. Mike didn't have a jock's body, but he was toned and firm in all the right places. Mulder cupped the gluteals and squeezed them firmly. Mike responded by sighing deeply and resting his head in the crease between Mulder's neck and shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment.Suddenly, Mike pushed away, and Mulder thought for one terrible moment that he had somehow misunderstood. Then the boxers were gone and there stood Mike in all his glory. Some sort of sanity seemed to seep into Mulder's brain at that time, and he tried to speak. 

"Mike." 

Mike knelt at his feet and started to undo his pants. 

"Mike." No response; Mike continued to remove his pants. 

"Mike." Still no response, and Mike had pulled out his penis and was ghosting his fingers tantalizingly up and down the hard shaft. While he could still think, Mulder took a deep breath and tried one more time. 

"You are naked and you are not in your right mind. Mike, are you sure you want to do this?" 

In answer, Mike opened his mouth and, without warning, swallowed Mulder whole. 

"Oh, crap!" Mulder screamed over his orgasm. He literally saw stars. "Mike, do you even 'have' a gag reflex!" He blacked out. 

When Mulder could again think, he realized he was no longer leaning against Mike's front door. He was in a bed, naked, with Mike pressed against him. 

"Mike..." he tried to say, but Mike put a finger to mouth and then replaced it with his lips. They were a little dry and tasted of stale beer and his own come, but it was a wonderful kiss just the same. It was deep and warm and unselfconsciously sweet. Mulder didn't need air. Not when he could have kisses this sweet in exchange. 

Mike broke the kiss and placed something in his hand. It was a large bottle of Astroglide. "Fuck me," he said. 

"Mike..." 

"Please," he pleaded, his voice cracking with the strength of his emotion. 

Mulder sighed and hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake. "Turn around," he instructed softly. Mike obeyed without hesitation, turning onto his left side. 

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered. Mulder placed a hand between Mike's shoulders and slid it down the curve of his back to the crease of his buttocks. Mike shivered under his touch. 

"Please," he whispered again. 

Mulder positioned himself beside Mike and squeezed some of the lubricant on his fingers. He spread the cool gel over his fingers and Mike's center and then gently inserted one digit. Mike didn't move, but Mulder heard him hiss in pain. 

"Damn, you're tight! Mike, have you ever done this before?" 

A long moment passed before Mike answered. "It was a long time ago." When Mulder didn't continue, he added, "Please, keep going. I want this. I need this." 

Mulder pulled out his finger, added more lube, and inserted two fingers. Slowly, he scissored them, stretching the tight muscles. 

"Yes," Mike whispered, pushing back on Mulder's hand. "Yes!" 

Satisfied he wasn't hurting Mike, Mulder added a third finger, searching for Mike's prostate gland. When Mike arched his back and shouted, "God, yes!" he knew he'd found it. 

Liberally coating his cock with lube, Mulder stroked the back of Mike's head. A layer of sweat made his hair appear midnight black, and his skin was flushed with arousal. 

"Mike, I'm ready to enter you. Is that okay?" Mike nodded wordlessly and began to take deep breaths. 

"Raise your right knee to your chest." Mike did as instructed. 

Mulder drank in the sight of Mike's body, open and ready for him. He placed the tip of his penis at the opening and slowly pushed it in. 

Mike shuddered and started to pant more loudly. "More," he said when Mulder stayed where he was. 

Ever so carefully, Mulder sheathed his cock in Mike's body. He used his hands to stroke Mike's belly and chest to help him to relax. At last, he was all the way in. 

"Mike, are you okay?" 

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, just move. Please." 

Though it was killing him, Mulder rocked slowly back and forth, trying to hit Mike's prostate with each deliberate thrust. From the moans and gasps he heard Mike uttering, he mostly succeeded. 

Mulder felt Mike's belly and scrotum contract just as he orgasmed with a muffled scream. Mulder followed a few seconds later. He quietly disengaged himself, found the bathroom, and returned with some damp washcloths. Mike was sleeping soundly and didn't awaken even when Mulder was wiping him off. He returned to the bed and spooned up behind Mike for a post-coital snuggle. 

Mulder awoke about an hour later. Mike was sound asleep, sprawled limply over the bed. And it was only then that he realized they had forgotten something important."Fuck!" Mulder had completely forgotten to use protection. A brief glance into Mike's bedside stand confirmed his suspicion for it contained a recently opened box of condoms. //Stupid// he cursed himself. Mike had the excuse of being drunk, but Mulder had been sober enough to remember and if he'd just asked Mike would have handed over a condom just as he'd done everything else Mulder had asked of him. Well, at least he 'had' condoms, which meant that Mike was probably clean, but God, what a stupid risk! 

Mulder watched the man sleeping and wondered at the tenderness he felt. It was almost like what he felt for Scully, but there was passion here. Something he and Scully had never found together no matter how hard they had tried. Mulder decided to let Mike sleep, and he made a mental note to get tested as soon as he returned to D.C. He wrote a detailed note saying how much he wanted to see Mike again and how New York and Washington D.C. weren't all that far from each other. He ended the note with his phone number, address, and e-mail address. 

He dressed quickly, cursing the fact that he had to catch a plane in two hours. He kissed Mike gently on the forehead and left. 

Mike awoke a few hours later. He stretched, wincing a little from the soreness in his ass. He found the note Mulder left on his kitchen table. Still naked, he took it back to the bed and read it through several times. 

He let the letter fall through his nerveless fingers to the floor. Mike curled up on the bed in a fetal position and started to rock. "Oh, God. What have I done, what have I done, what have I done..." 

Mike repeated the words over and over, rocking and sobbing as though his heart would break.   
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Emerald Starburst


End file.
